


The Distraction Conspiracy

by justkisa



Category: Football RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 05:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2609477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justkisa/pseuds/justkisa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loving conspiracies, Belgians on dates, lots of kissing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Distraction Conspiracy

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Mirallas & Van Buyten did recently attend a football match together. [Here](http://justkisa.tumblr.com/post/98966515598/donzima-van-buyten-and-kevin-mirallas-watching) they are at the game. 
> 
> 2) This story depicts polyamorous relationships therefore it does not contain anything I would consider adultery or infidelity. 
> 
> 3) The players’ families (wives & children) do play a role in this story. So, if that’s something you like to avoid in fic, you should probably steer clear.

When Kevin gets home, the house is quiet. “Hello,” he calls, as he closes the door, forcing a cheer he doesn’t feel into the words, “I’m home.” 

“We’re upstairs,” Christelle calls back. 

He follows the sound of her voice, through the kitchen, down the hall, and up the stairs. He takes the stairs slowly but his thigh still aches by the time he reaches the landing. Right as he steps onto the landing, his phone chirps. He leans against the wall and fishes it out of his pocket. It’s a text from Bryan, _how’d it go?_. 

Maybe, if it were one of his other teammates, he’d ignore it, but it’s Bryan, who, when he’d been flat on his back on a stretcher, in unimaginable pain, had squeezed Kevin’s hand, like Kevin was the one who needed comforting, so he sends back, _not good_.

Bryan’s _i’m sorry_ comes seconds later. 

Kevin wants to shove his phone in his pocket without sending a response. He never knows what to say when people say that. For Bryan, he manages, _thanks man_ , then he shoves his phone in his pocket. 

He pushes off the wall and climbs the rest of the stairs. When he reaches the second floor, he calls, “Christelle?”

“In the playroom,” she calls. 

He makes his way down the hall and turns into the playroom. Christelle and Juan are sitting at the little table near the windows. The table is covered in paper and fat crayons. When Juan sees Kevin, he jumps up so fast the table rattles. “Papa! Papa!” he says, running across the room and clattering into Kevin’s legs.

“Juan,” Christelle says, scrambling up, “Juan, you have to be careful with your Papa, he’s hurt.” 

“It’s all right,” Kevin says, running his hand over Juan’s head. The soft, feathery strands of his hair slide across his skin like a soothing balm. It’s harder to hurt when Juan’s there, warm and solid against him.

Juan leans into Kevin’s knees, looks up at him, and smiles. When Juan smiles, it’s impossible for Kevin not to smile back. His smile feels slow, though, like stretching a rarely used muscle. It’s been awhile since his last smile. “Hi, Papa,” Juan says.

Kevin leans down to kiss Juan’s upturned face. “Hello,” he says, against the downy softness of Juan’s cheek.

Juan squirms away from the kiss. “Papa,” he says, resting his hands just above Kevin’s knees. He’s still holding a crayon in one hand. It’s bright green. “We’re coloring. Me and Mama.” He tugs on Kevin’s fingers. “You color too, Papa. Come on.”

Christelle comes across the room and ruffles Juan’s hair. “In a minute, sweetheart. Go work on your picture, okay?” 

Juan pouts a little but he lets go of Kevin’s fingers. “Okay,” he says and toddles back to the table. 

Christelle leans in and gives him a quick kiss. “Hey,” she says, leaning her forehead against his, “How’re you?” 

Kevin leans into her. “Not great,” he says. 

“What’d the scan show?” she says.

He shrugs. “Nothing good. They want to do more scans. Maybe at the end of the week.” 

She slides her hands along his sides. “How long, do you think? Until…”

“A while,” he says. He hadn’t needed the scan to tell him that. He’d known the moment he’d gone down. He’d known it was bad before the stretcher even reached him. 

“Oh, Kevin,” she says. She kisses him again and the familiar fit of her mouth to his is a warm, momentary comfort. She leans back. “You’ll tell me more later.” It’s not a question. He will. For her, he’ll lay out every detail, answer every question. And she’ll hold the details - the answers - tight to herself. She’ll help him carry them with a fierce determination that he loves, that awes him. “For now,” she says, “Go color with your son.” 

“Okay,” he says, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, “What are we coloring today?”

She smiles. “Go ask Juan. I’m going to go start figuring out dinner.” She pats his side then steps around him and slips out of the room. 

For a moment, Kevin stands and watches Juan. He’s bent over his picture, a fat red crayon clenched in his fist - red is his favorite - his face screwed up in an expression of fierce concentration. Kevin crosses the room and carefully eases down into one of little chairs that match the little table. “So, Juan, what are we coloring?” 

Juan looks up. “A dog, Papa,” he says, with a puzzled seriousness which suggest he thinks Kevin should know that already. 

Kevin studies the colorful, tangled scribbles that adorn Juan’s paper. Underneath them he thinks he might see an outline of a dog. Christelle’s work he’s sure. “Ah,” he says, as seriously as he can manage, “Silly Papa, of course it’s a dog.” 

Juan smiles. “A big dog. You color too, Papa?” 

“Of course,” Kevin says, “What color should I use?” 

Juan pauses and considers the crayons scattered across the table. He picks up a blue one and holds it out for Kevin. “Blue, Papa.”

“Okay,” Kevin says, taking the crayon, “Blue it is.” The crayon is warm and a little sticky and the little chair isn’t comfortable on Kevin’s best days but, right now, Kevin wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

***

Later, when Juan’s asleep, Kevin and Christelle curl up together on the sofa and he tells her everything the physios said.

When they were first together and he’d had an injury or a bad loss, he’d talked to her the way he talks to the press, vague statements mixed with reassurances. Then, one day, after a terrible loss, she’d reached across the kitchen table, taken his hand, and said, “Save the bullshit for the press, when you talk to me, you tell me the truth.” So he had. She’d listened and then she’d told him the truth right back. And now he can’t imagine doing things any other way.

When he’s done telling her every discouraging detail and she’s done asking questions, Christelle kisses him then leans over to grab the remote. She puts on a movie. She doesn’t ask what he wants to watch just puts something on. She knows he doesn’t care, knows that, what he really wants, is to curl around her, to hold her close and ground himself with her familiar warmth.

The movie isn’t bad but he can’t keep his eyes open. Christelle elbows him. “If you’re going to sleep,” she says, looking back at the TV, “go to bed.”

He kisses the side of her head. “I’d rather stay here.”

She turns back towards him and pokes his side. “You’d be sorry in the morning. Go to bed.” 

She’s right. He regretfully disentangles himself from her and pushes up off the sofa. His whole body aches and his thigh’s throbbing. “You coming?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “In a little while, okay?”

“Okay.” She tips her face up for a kiss and he leans down to oblige.

***

Kevin sleeps later than he means to. When he wakes up, Christelle is rummaging through one of the dresser drawers and there’s an open carry-on bag at the foot of the bed. He rubs his hand across his eyes and pushes up to a sitting position. Christelle glances back at him. “Ah, so you finally decided to wake up,” she says, turning back to the open dresser drawer.

He squints at the carry-on bag. “Are we going somewhere?” He likes to think he would remember if they were going somewhere.

“You are,” she says, coming over to the bed and tucking two of his shirts into the bag.

“I am?” he says, sitting up a little straighter, because that’s news to him.

“Yes,” she says, with a smile, “you are,” before turning back to the dresser.

“Okay,” he says, “Where am I going?” 

She comes back to the bed and puts a few pairs of socks into the bag. “Anderlecht,” she says, “Daniel’s going to meet you and he’s going to take you to a game.” 

That sounds nice but he really thinks he would have remembered planning something like that. “When did this happen?” he says.

She goes over to the closet. “After you went to bed,” she says over her shoulder, “I was texting Celine and she was saying Daniel was going to the game and she said you should go too and Daniel agreed, so—“ She shrugs and turns back to the closet. “I made a few arrangements.” 

“Were you going to ask me?” he says. 

She comes back to the bed with two pairs of his pants slung over her arm. “You don’t want to see Daniel?” she says, tucking the pants into the bag.

“That’s not—“ he says, “Of course I do. Just—“ 

She perches on the bed by his knees. “I thought it’d be nice. Daniel’s good for you when you’re upset about things like—“ She gently lays her hand on his right thigh. “—this.”

“You’re good for me,” he says, resting his hand on top of hers. 

She smiles a little and pats his leg with her other hand. “Yes. I am. But Daniel helps you when you’re down about things like this.” 

He squeezes her hand. “You help me,” he says, because she does and he always wants her to know that.

“I know,” she says, “But not the way Daniel does.”

“Christelle—“

She interrupts, “And that’s okay. That’s why we do things the way we do.” 

“Come here,” he says, tugging on her hand, “Come on.” She scoots up the bed and, as soon as she’s close enough, he leans in and kisses her. “I love you,” he says.

She smiles and presses a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And I love you.”

“So,” he says, letting go of her hand and leaning back against the headboard, “When am I leaving?”

She smiles. “In a few hours. Juan and I will take you to the airport. Everything you need should be on your phone.” 

“Where is Juan?” 

“In the playroom, watching one of his videos. I didn’t want him to wake you.” She tugs the covers down his legs. “Now, come on, up you get. Lots to do before you leave.”

***

When Christelle drops Kevin off at the airport, she kisses him and says, “Text Daniel when you land, he’s coming to get you.”

“Love you,” he says, kissing her, “I’ll call.”

“Okay,” she says, “Give Daniel a kiss for me and, Kevin, have fun, okay?”

He kisses her again. “Okay.” Then he leans over the seat to kiss Juan. “Be good for Mama, okay little man?”

Juan smiles. “Okay, Papa.” 

Kevin collects his stuff and gets out of the car. He waves to Juan until he can’t see the car anymore.

***

When Kevin finally makes it out of the airport in Brussels, he stops for a moment and breathes in the cool, night air, lets it wash away his travel-induced haziness. Then he starts looking around for Daniel. Daniel’s never hard to find in a crowd.

Kevin makes his way towards Daniel, picking his way through the throngs of people milling around outside arrivals, narrowly avoiding a collision with two small boys trailing after their mother. When he’s close enough, he calls, “Hey! Daniel, over here.” 

Daniel turns toward him and smiles. “Kevin!” He spreads his arms and takes a step towards Kevin. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” Kevin says. He smiles and steps forward into Daniel’s arms. Daniel’s hugs are all encompassing. They make it easy to forget everything except for him. Kevin turns his face into Daniel’s shoulder and leans into the solid, bulk of him.

Daniel squeezes him tight and says, “Good to see you.” 

Daniel doesn’t let go until Kevin straightens up and says, “You too.” 

Daniel pats his shoulder. “You ready to go?” 

“Yeah,” Kevin says.

Daniel smiles. “Okay,” he says, slinging his arm around Kevin’s shoulders, “Come on.”

***

The first thing Kevin does, once they’re in the car and on their way, is call Christelle. “I’m here,” he says, when she picks up, “Daniel’s got me.”

“That’s good,” she says, just as Daniel shouts, “Hi, Christelle.” 

Kevin laughs a little, “See? I told you.” 

Christelle giggles. “Say hello for me and don’t forget my kiss for him.” 

Kevin leans over and presses a quick kiss to Daniel’s cheek. “Hey,” Daniel says, “I’m driving here, you know?” 

Kevin kisses him again, just to watch him grumble, then says, “Christelle says hello.” 

“Ah,” Daniel says, “I see.” 

“I kissed him for you,” Kevin says to Christelle, 

“Good,” she says. She’s still giggling. “Have fun,” she says, “Okay? Call me when you land and I’ll come get you.”

“Okay,” he says, “Tell Juan I love him.” 

“Will do,” she says, “Love you.”

“Love you too,” he says and ends the call.

“How is Juan?” Daniel says. 

Kevin settles back into his seat. “He’s good. Very into coloring right now.”

“Oh?” Daniel says, “You’re going to have an artist, then? Instead of a footballer?” 

Kevin smiles. “Maybe. If that’s what makes him happy, you know? How are Lee-Roy and Lou-Ann?” 

“Good,” Daniel says with a smile and launches into a story about one of their latest escapades. He can talk about them forever. They’re one of his favorite topics. Kevin likes to listen to him, whatever the topic. He spends the rest of the drive watching the streets slip by and listening to the comforting sound of Daniel’s voice.

***

When they get to the hotel, Kevin loiters in the lobby and lets Daniel take care of checking in. Eventually Daniel comes to collect him. He presses his hand to the small of Kevin’s back and guides him through the lobby to the elevators. When Daniel finds the room, Kevin leans into him. “Just one room?” he says, just to give him shit, “What will people say?”

Daniel rolls his eyes and says, “It’s a suite.” He unlocks the door and pushes it open. “Come on.” 

The suite is very nice, which isn’t a surprise, Daniel has good - expensive - taste in hotels. Kevin drops his bag and turns around so he can take a good look. “You like it?” Daniel says from right behind him. 

Kevin turns around. Daniel’s close enough to touch and he’s smiling at Kevin. Just behind him Kevin can see Daniel’s bag slumped against his. “Yeah,” he says, “It’s very nice.” 

“I’m glad you like it,” Daniel says then he ducks his head and kisses Kevin. Kevin leans into it. Daniel cups Kevin’s face in his hands and tips his head up. Kevin opens his mouth and Daniel gives him a slow, wonderfully thorough kiss. “Hello,” Daniel says, rubbing his thumb along Kevin’s cheek. 

Kevin smiles. “Hello.” 

“So,” Daniel says, soft and serious, “How are you?”

“I’ve been better,” Kevin says.

“True,” Daniel says, “And you’ve been worse.”

It should sting, maybe, the reminder of worse injuries, darker times, but, buffeted by the warm steadiness of Daniel’s hands, it’s just something that slides right over him, just a truth to be acknowledged. “Yeah,” he says

Daniel strokes his thumbs along Kevin’s cheekbones. “You got through those times,” he says, “And you’ll get through this.”

It’s easy to believe with Daniel looking at him so intently, his voice ringing with sincerity. “Yeah,” he says. Daniel smiles and leans in to kiss him.

“So,” Daniel says, stepping back, “I was thinking we’d go out to dinner. There’s this place I want to try nearby.”

Kevin smiles. Of course there’s somewhere nearby Daniel wants to try. Daniel’s obsessive about finding new restaurants to try. He’s only gotten worse about it since he retired. “It’s not one of your weird, experimental food places, is it?” he asks because Daniel can sometimes have frankly bizarre taste in food.

Daniel rolls his eyes. “No,” he says, “I save those for Celine because she, unlike certain other people, actually appreciates them. This place is supposed to have a good selection of beer though.” 

“All right,” Kevin says, “As long as there’s no weird food and you buy the beer, I’m in.”

***

At the restaurant, Kevin lets Daniel order for both of them so he gets to try all the things on the menu he wants. The beer is good and so is the food.

They spend dinner pushing plates back and forth across the table and stealing sips of each other’s beer. They talk a little about Daniel’s retirement, what he’s doing, what he might do, but mostly they eat and Kevin lets Daniel ramble on about the food and the beer and this other restaurant nearby he wants to try. 

By the time they make it back to the hotel, Kevin feels better than he has in days. He’s warm and pleasantly hazy from all the really good beer. He wants to lean into Daniel, put his hands all over him, wants to kiss him and see if he still tastes like the chocolate from the dessert they shared.

When they get to the suite and Daniel’s pulled the door shut, Kevin tangles his hands in Daniel’s shirt and leans up to kiss him. Daniel wraps his hands around Kevin’s wrists and sets him back. Kevin licks his lips. He can taste chocolate and a fruity hint of the last beer they’d tried. “Aw, come on, Daniel,” he says, “You didn’t ask me here just for dinner and a game.”

Daniel raises his eyebrows. “I asked you here?” he says, smirking a little, “When was this?” 

“Shut up,” Kevin says, “You and Christelle and Celine, you all — all conspired and—“

Daniel laughs, low and soft, and the sound of it makes Kevin want to squirm. “None of that,” Daniel says.”

“None of what?” Kevin says.

Daniel pouts exaggeratedly.

“I’m not—“ Kevin starts.

“Yeah,” Daniel says, shifting Kevin’s right wrist to his other hand, the broad expanse of his hand curling easily around both Kevin’s wrists. He tips Kevin’s chin up and rubs his thumb across Kevin’s mouth. “You are,” he says, “But you like it when we fuss over you, when we _conspire_ , don’t you?” He uses his grip on Kevin’s wrists to tug him a little closer. “You like being the center of our attention, don’t you? Like to have us pamper and take care of you?” He curls his hand around the nape of Kevin’s neck and runs his thumb along the line of his throat. “Don’t you?” 

Kevin ducks his head and looks up at Daniel through his lashes. “Maybe,” he says. Daniel smiles. He tips Kevin’s chin up and kisses him, long and slow. Kevin wants to lean into him but Daniel’s grip on his wrists is firm and there’s no way for him to move forward. 

Daniel pulls back. He lets go of Kevin’s wrists and says, “Put your hands behind your back.”

“Daniel…” Kevin says, because, while he’s not opposed, he wants to touch Daniel. It’s been awhile and he wants to reacquaint himself with the feel of Daniel’s skin. 

Daniel kisses him. “Do this for me,” he says, “Let me take care of you.”

Kevin has a hard time denying Daniel anything. “Okay,” he says. He puts his hands behind his back, wraps his right hand around his left wrist. It’s worth it for the smile Daniel gives him alone.

Daniel starts unbuttoning Kevin’s shirt. He goes slowly. His knuckles nudge against Kevin’s chest and stomach. Kevin wishes he wasn’t wearing another shirt underneath so he could feel Daniel’s skin rubbing against his. Daniel pauses at Kevin’s belt buckle then runs his knuckles along the line of Kevin’s fly. Kevin shudders. “Daniel—“ 

Daniel pulls both of his shirts up out of his pants and says, “Hold still.” 

Kevin takes a slow, deep breath. He can do that, for Daniel he _will_ do that. “Okay,” he says.

Daniel smiles and undoes the last button on Kevin’s shirt. He leaves it gaping open and starts working Kevin’s belt open. When he slides it out of the loops of Kevin’s pants, Kevin has to bite his lip and dig his fingers into his wrist because he wants to move. He wants to arch his back and push his hips forward. Wants to press into Daniel’s hands. 

Daniel drops the belt on the floor and it lands with a clatter. “Take off your shirts,” he says. His voice has gone rough and low and Kevin likes it, likes the way it belies the careful, controlled way he’s been touching Kevin.

Kevin lets go of his wrist and slips his shirt down his shoulders. He watches the way Daniel watches him, the way he slides his tongue along his lower lip when Kevin drops his shirt on the floor. He fiddles with the hem of his t-shirt and says, “This one too?”

“Yeah,” Daniel says and the low rasp of his voice makes Kevin’s breath catch in his throat. He takes it off slowly, makes a show of it, and Daniel’s there, sliding his hands along Kevin’s sides, before Kevin’s even dropped it on the floor. He splays his hands along Kevin’s ribs and dips his head to say, “Tease,” right in Kevin’s ear, so close his lips brush against Kevin’s skin. 

Kevin tips his head to the side. “Maybe,” he says.

Daniel laughs and brushes a series of soft kisses along Kevin’s throat. He nips at the base of Kevin’s throat. “Go,” he says, raising his head and sliding his hands down to Kevin’s hips, “sit at the foot of the bed.” He runs his thumbs along the waistband of Kevin’s pants. “And take off your shoes.” He lets go of Kevin and Kevin sways, suddenly unmoored without the warm, sure touch of Daniel’s hands. Daniel skates a kiss across his mouth. “Go on.”

Kevin goes on unsteady legs and collapses onto the bed. His fingers get tangled in his laces but eventually he gets his shoes and socks off. He kicks them to the side and looks up. Daniel’s crouched down, untying his shoes. He’s taken off his sweater and the shirt he has on underneath is stretched tight across the broad expanse of his shoulders. He stands up and toes off his shoes. Then he comes and stands in front of Kevin. “Spread your legs,” he says. 

Kevin leans back and spreads his legs. Daniel gets down on his knees. Kevin runs his fingers along Daniel’s shoulder then tugs on his shirt. “Take this off.” 

Daniel rests his hands on Kevin’s knees and smiles. “Maybe later.” Kevin opens his mouth to protest but Daniel slides his hands along his thighs and Kevin forgets to say anything. 

Daniel unbuttons Kevin’s pants and eases his zipper down. The backs of his fingers brush along Kevin’s cock. “Daniel,” Kevin says, “ _Daniel_.”

Daniel smiles and hooks his fingers into Kevin’s waistband. “Lift up for me,” he says. Kevin does and Daniel tugs his pants and boxers down over his hips and halfway down his thighs. When he pulls Kevin’s pants down his legs, every brush of his fingers against Kevin’s skin sends a spiral of heat through Kevin. By the time Daniel has his pants off, there’s a restless desperateness itching under his skin. He just wants Daniel to touch him. Wants him to slide his hands along his bare skin. Wants him to wrap one of his big hands around Kevin’s cock. Anything. 

Daniel tosses Kevin’s pants away and sits back on his heels. He gives Kevin a very deliberate once over. “I never,” he says, voice gone low and rough, “get tired of looking at you.”

Kevin wants to be _touched_. He wants to dig his fingers into Daniel’s shoulders and haul him forward. He wants to tangle his fingers in Daniel’s hair and drag him forward so his mouth, damp from kissing - from the way he keeps running his tongue along his lower lip - slides along Kevin’s skin. “Daniel,” he says and it comes out broken and gasping, “ _Please_. Come on.” 

Daniel smiles a little. “Okay,” he says, wrapping his hands around Kevin’s ankles, “Okay.” Daniel’s hands are so warm and he squeezes just hard enough to hint at the strength and power of his hands. 

He slides his hands up Kevin’s legs, so slowly that it’s like Kevin can still feel his hands everywhere he’s touched him, the residual heat like a phantom touch. Daniel stops at the top of Kevin’s thighs. “Please,” Kevin says and Daniel curls his hand around Kevin’s cock. Kevin can’t hold still anymore. His hips jerk up and he fucks right up into Daniel’s fist. 

Daniel rubs his other hand along Kevin’s thigh. “Easy,” he says, stroking Kevin’s cock, “I’ve got you.” Daniel’s grip is perfect but he’s going so torturously slow. “I want to suck you,” Daniel says, “Would you like that?” 

“Please,” Kevin says.

Daniel lets go of him and leans up to kiss him. “Touch yourself for me for a minute,” he says, “ _hmm,_ Kevin?”

“Okay,” Kevin says. He licks his palm and wraps his hand around his cock.

“Slow,” Daniel says, “Okay?” Kevin strokes himself, tries to match the steady speed Daniel had used. Daniel smiles. “Good. _God_ , Kevin,” he says, “I could just—“ and Kevin goes slower. He’s not sure what’s better, the feel of his hand or the way Daniel’s looking at him, hungry and awed.

Daniel sits back on his heels and rummages in his pocket. He pulls out a condom and tears it open. He tosses away the wrapper. He runs his fingers along Kevin’s knuckles. “Enough,” he says then pulls Kevin’s hand away. He rolls the condom down Kevin’s cock. “Stay still for me,” he says and lowers his head.

Kevin has to dig his fingernails into his palms to keep himself from pushing up into Daniel’s mouth. He wants to touch Daniel. He uncurls his fingers and settles his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “Daniel,” he says, “Can I…”

Daniel lifts his head. “What?”

“Just—“ Kevin says, trailing his fingers up and down Daniel’s neck. He slides his hand along his shoulder. He wishes Daniel had taken off his shirt so he could run his hand along his bare skin. 

“Yeah,” Daniel says, “Just hold still and let me…” and he puts his mouth back on Kevin. 

Daniel is taking his time, driving Kevin crazy with his mouth. Kevin uncurls his other hand and rests it on Daniel’s shoulder. He digs his fingers into solid muscles of Daniel’s shoulders and holds on tight. 

Daniel’s body has a blunt strength and power. Kevin will never get used to having him prostrate in front of him, of having all that strength and power bent to bring him pleasure. He loves it when Daniel uses his strength - his size - to pin Kevin down. Loves to be blanketed by Daniel’s body. As good as Daniel’s mouth is on him, he wants that now. Wants Daniel to curve his hands around his wrists and hold him down while he fucks him. He wants to be covered completely - held in place. 

Kevin fists his hands in Daniel’s shirt. “Daniel,” he says, “Daniel, you should fuck me. I want you to fuck me. Please. _Please_.” 

Daniel raises his head. His mouth is red. He licks his lips. “Kevin.”

“Please,” Kevin says, “fuck me.”

“I don’t think,” Daniel says, splaying his hand across Kevin’s right thigh, “that’s the best idea right now.” 

Maybe he’s right but Kevin can’t bring himself to care. “Please,” he says, “Daniel, _please_.” He curls his hand around Daniel’s wrist. “I want—“ He squeezes Daniel’s wrist. “Daniel, please.” 

“Oh, Kevin,” Daniel says, “ _Kevin_.” He turns his head and brushes his mouth along Kevin’s knuckles. “I’ll give you what you want,” he says, “Okay?” He presses a kiss to the back of Kevin’s hand. “Trust me.” 

Kevin runs his hand through Daniel’s hair. “Okay.” 

Daniel smiles and bows his head. He’s done going slow. Kevin has to let his hand fall away because otherwise he’ll fist it in Daniel’s hair and push up into his mouth and Daniel doesn’t like that. He puts his hands flat on the bed and grabs fistfuls of the bedspread. 

When he comes, it blindsides him. He tries to say Daniel’s name, to say something, but he can’t get the words out, can hardly breathe. “Kevin,” Daniel says, desperate and rough, “ _Kevin_. Look at you, fuck, look at you.” He slides his hands along Kevin’s thighs. “Kevin. _Kevin_ , lay back for me. Come on, let me see you.”

Kevin lets go of the bedspread and touches Daniel’s cheek. “Daniel,” he says, “ _Daniel,_ hey.” 

“Hey,” Daniel says, pushing up and kissing Kevin, “Lay back. Come on.” 

Kevin smiles. “Okay.” It’s easy enough to fall back on the bed. He feels loose and utterly relaxed. 

Daniel stands up. He leans down and gently removes the condom. “Scoot up,” he says, “Rest your head on the pillows.” He goes and gets rid of the condom. 

Kevin works his way up the bed until his head is on the pillows. Daniel comes back to stand at the foot of the bed. Kevin smiles up at him. “Come here, Daniel, come on. Want to touch you.” 

“Maybe,” Daniel says, smiling, slow and pleased, “I want to look at you, _hmm_ , all spread out, just for me.” 

“Come on,” Kevin says, “Please. You said you’d give me what I wanted.” 

“I did,” Daniel says, “Didn’t I?” He pulls his shirt over his head and drops it on the floor. “I guess, then,” he says, unbuttoning his pants, “I should give it to you, shouldn’t I?” He pushes his pants down and steps out of them. He kneels on the bed, knees on either side of Kevin’s legs. The bed dips under his weight. He leans down, rests his hands on either side of Kevin’s head, caging him with his body. He kisses Kevin, rough and a little desperate. “Is this it?” he says, “Is this what you wanted?” 

Kevin curls his hand around Daniel’s cock. Daniel makes a low, choked sound. “I wanted,” he says, stroking Daniel, “you to fuck me, wanted—“ 

Daniel kisses him again. He curls his hand around Kevin’s wrist and presses it against the bed. “This is it,” he says, brushing a kiss just under Kevin’s jaw, “isn’t it? You wanted me to hold you down. Wanted me to fuck you.” 

Kevin lets go of Daniel’s cock. “Kevin,” Daniel says, “Kevin, don’t—“

“Just,” Kevin says, scrabbling his hand along Daniel’s hip, “Daniel.” He clutches at Daniel’s ass, tries to haul him closer. “I want—“ 

“Ah,” Daniel says. He carefully settles himself on top of Kevin, pressing Kevin into the bed. Kevin sighs at the weight of him because this - this is what he wanted. “There,” Daniel says, drawing Kevin’s other arm up and pinning his other wrist to the bed. “Is that it, hmm, Kevin?” 

“Yeah,” Kevin says, words faltering with breathless pleasure, “ _Daniel_. Yeah.” He arches up, pressing up against Daniel’s cock, which is hard and hot against Kevin’s stomach. 

Daniel’s breath catches and he bites his lower lip. “Kevin. _Kevin_.” 

“You should,” Kevin says, straining up to kiss him, “Should rub off on me, Daniel, just—“ He rolls his hips up. “All over me, just, come on, _Daniel_.” 

Daniel makes a rough, strangled sound. “Fuck,” he says, “Kevin—“ and he starts to move, pushing his cock along Kevin’s hip, his stomach. He kisses Kevin, insistent and open. “Next time,” he says, “when—when you— I’m going to fuck you.” He squeezes Kevin’s wrists. “I’m going to spread you out, pin you down, and fuck you.” 

“Yeah?” Kevin says. 

“Yeah,” Daniel says, “I—I…“ He stutters to a stop. He’s moving more erratically now, just jerking his hips against Kevin. “Fuck,” he says, and kisses Kevin, graceless and rough, “Kevin. _Kevin_.” 

“Daniel,” Kevin says, “ _Daniel._ Come on, all over me, okay, just—“ 

“Kevin,” Daniel gasps, “fuck,” and comes, wet heat spurting onto Kevin’s stomach. He slumps on top of Kevin and his hands slip off of his wrists. 

Kevin takes the weight of him. This, Daniel pleasured and unguarded, completely surrounding him, is one of his favorite things. “I should,” Daniel says, after awhile, the words muffled against Kevin’s shoulder, “get up. M’crushing you.” He always says that. 

Kevin strokes his back. “Stay,” he says, “Just for awhile.” 

“Mmm, all right, ” Daniel says, pressing a kiss to Kevin’s shoulder, “But don’t let me fall asleep here, ‘kay.”

Kevin kisses the top of his head. “Okay.”

***

When Kevin wakes up, he rolls over, looking for Daniel. Daniel’s not in bed.

He can smell food and coffee. He flops onto his back and opens his eyes. Daniel’s sitting at the table by the window, reading a newspaper, and drinking coffee. “Hey,” Kevin says.

Daniel looks up. He smiles. “Good morning,” he says and looks back down at his paper. 

Kevin pushes up into a sitting position. He scrubs his hand across his face. “Don’t you have an ipad or whatever? What’s with the paper?” 

Daniel takes a sip of coffee and looks back up. “I like reading the actual paper.” 

Kevin smiles. “Old man.” 

Daniel rolls his eyes. “Come have breakfast. I ordered for you.”

Kevin can think of a dozen things he wants more than breakfast. “Never mind that,” he says, patting the bed, “Come here.” He smiles. “Bring breakfast if you want.”

Daniel takes another sip of coffee. “Come eat,” he says.

“Daniel…”

Daniel puts down his coffee cup. “There’s hours before we have to leave. Come eat and then…”

“Then what?” 

Daniel smiles. “Then maybe I’ll come over there,” he says and looks back at his paper.

Kevin considers his options and decides to go have breakfast. He gets out of bed, finds his pants on the floor, puts them on, and goes over to the table. He steals a kiss from Daniel and, upon further consideration, also steals his coffee. “Hey!” Daniel says. Kevin smiles as charmingly as he can and takes a sip. 

In the end, they’re late for the game (they miss kick-off completely), but it’s all right. The game isn't really the point.

***

The next day, when Daniel drops Kevin off at the airport, he kisses both Kevin’s cheeks and says, “Take care of yourself. Listen to your physios. But, if you don’t think they’re helping, you let me know and I’ll find someone who can help.”

“Okay,” Kevin says and kisses Daniel’s cheek. 

Daniel smiles. “Kiss Christelle for me and give my love to Juan.” 

Kevin kisses Daniel’s other cheek. “Okay. Kiss Celine. Give my love to everyone.” Then he grabs his stuff and gets out of the car. Before he shuts the door, he looks back and says, “Thanks, Daniel.” He doesn’t say for what but he’s sure Daniel knows.

Daniel doesn’t say anything just smiles. Kevin shuts the door and waves once before turning and walking into the terminal.

***

When Christelle picks Kevin up at the airport, he gives her Daniel’s kiss. “From Daniel,” he says then kisses her again, “From me.”

“Hi,” she says, “How are you?” 

He kisses her again. “Good.”

She smiles. “You had a nice time?”

“Yes,” he says, “Thank you, you know, for…” 

She kisses him. “You’re welcome. I—“ 

Juan cuts off whatever she was going to say with, “Papa! Papa! Hi, Papa!” 

Kevin leans over the seat and presses kisses all over his face. “Hey, little man,” he says, “Were you good for Mama?”

Juan nods very seriously. “Very good, Papa?”

“Well?” Kevin says to Christelle, settling into the front seat. 

She smiles. “Yes,” she says, “Very good.” She pats Kevin’s knee. “Let’s go home.”

Kevin lays his hand over hers. “Yes,” he says, squeezing her hand, “Let’s.


End file.
